A Thing For Blondes
by DalstinKyukiMikileyluv
Summary: Harry has dated every blond haired wizard in Hogwarts and rumor has it a Muggle or two. They all bear an uncanny resemblance to one Draco Malfoy, and he's not going to be the only blond Harry's never had if he has anything to say about it. M for next part, Twoshot. Mentions of self harm and blood.
1. Chapter 1

I sat in the new combined common room quietly. It felt weird to be back, to be finishing out my seventh year (though they called it "eighth year" to avoid confusing things with the current seventh years) and not worry about Voldemort. I didn't know how to be normal.  
"Could you hand me that?" Hermione asked, breaking through my musing.  
"Of course," I said.  
We didn't have a clue what we wanted to do after this. Well, Hermione did. Ron and I were at a loss after actually fighting against Dark wizards. It wasn't something I could make into a career. And as Mrs. Weasley said so often, something I shouldn't have to either.  
I didn't tell anyone what I truly wanted was to be watching Teddy grow up and learning how to make a garden look less like Aunt Petunia's, neat and orderly, and more like Mrs. Weasley's, wild but controlled.  
There was more life in her way of doing things.  
Instead I accepted the sense in him living with his grandmother and me learning things that would help me learn to take care of myself. As much as I'd like to be, I'm not ready for that.  
"H-harry?" a small voice said.  
Colin. He'd gotten even worse since I saved his life. His bright eyes glistened.  
"Hello, Colin. What is it?" I asked.  
He looked down at his shoes.  
"I was wondering if you'd like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend..." he said quickly.  
I glanced at Hermione, nearly twisting my neck in the process. She gave me a helpless expression.  
"I'm sorry, Colin, but I'm not interested. I think you ought to ask Lucy. She would love to go," I said.  
He swallowed and frowned.  
"Oh. Alright, Harry," he said before rushing out of the common room.  
A small laugh.  
"Who thinks that was funny?" I asked.  
"Oh, just Potter having to fend off the masses," Malfoy said.  
I rolled my eyes.  
"Leave it," I said.  
I headed off towards my bed, tired of inflicting pain. Hogsmeade weekends and holidays were always full of hopeful hero worshippers hoping to land the great Harry Potter. The upcoming weekend had the unfortunate predicament of being both.  
"Harry," a voice purred.  
"Wyatt, you're great. But right now I need sleep," I said.  
I stepped around him, letting his long blond locks fade out of my mind as I settled into deep sleep.

* * *

The life skills style class I'd picked up once I realized I wouldn't need a N.E.W.T in Defense Against the Dark Arts after all was actually my favorite. Every day the classroom was arranged a different way, and we learned to cook and clean and sew with magic. That day we were gardening. Of course, we did other things. Small healing charms and protective wards. It was the kind of thing I was really interested in, maintaining a home. Caring for a family. Ron didn't get it, no one really understood why I took the class until I started dating my partner at the time, Wyatt. Then they thought I took the class to be near him.  
We switched partners in Home Studies once a month. Lavender Brown was surprisingly talented with icing. All the things she could draw on the cookies with her wand and the like amazed me. Luna was my favorite partner. I would regret the coming end of the month.  
Not only because I'd be separated from one of the most adept Healers, but because of the holiday. Valentine's Day, a day which it was upsetting to be lonely. And, of course, everyone wanted to be the one who comforted Harry Potter.  
"Ouch," Luna muttered.  
I looked up.  
"I'm sorry, Luna, I wasn't looking," I said.  
I had cut her finger with the spell I was supposed to be using to trim plants.  
"It's perfectly alright, Harry. The Nargles are getting to you, I can see," she said.  
"It's more that Wyatt is leering at me from across the room," I said.  
"Is that bad?" she asked.  
I smiled at her.  
"He's like all the others. I know you and Neville wanted this to work but.." I said.  
She calmly trimmed the branch for me.  
"We want you to be happy, and you are not," she said.  
"When did you get so wise?" I teased.  
She smiled back at me.  
Instead of rushing off to Transfiguration as I usually did, I waited for Wyatt.  
"Harry," he said.  
"Wyatt. I don't think we should see each other any more," I said.  
Shove it out before I lost my nerve.  
"Just like that?" he asked.  
"I'm sorry," I said.  
His eyes flared but he nodded and walked away quickly.  
"Boy Wonder," Malfoy said.  
"Do you follow me around the school just to comment on my life?" I snapped.  
"There's something about you," he said.  
"Whatever, Malfoy. I've got to go," I said.  
"I'm going to figure it out!" he called after me.  
I rolled my eyes.

* * *

I sighed and put aside yet another pamphlet of future careers.  
"Nev, do you think I'd be good at anything like that? Fighting..?" I asked.  
Luna kissed my forehead before plopping onto the couch beside us.  
"You'd be brilliant," Neville replied.  
I knew I would, I killed Voldemort after all. What I meant was would I enjoy it and would it destroy me?  
"Is that what you want , Harry?" Luna asked.  
I shook my head.  
"I'm done fighting," I said.  
She smiled at me.  
"Me too. We don't have to fight anymore," she said.  
Neville peered around her.  
"It's no secret that the both of you are just dying to be Mummy Dearest to some tiny thing. Why don't you just get a pet?" he said  
I hit him with the pillow.  
"There's nothing wrong with it," I muttered.  
"Are you going to try and get one of those guys of yours to help you with that?" he asked.  
I snorted.  
For a while we simply sat in the common room and watched other people live around us.  
"I'm going to the library," I said.  
Neville smiled at me.  
"Don't break too many hearts on the way there," he said.  
"Potter," Malfoy's voice sounded from behind me.  
"Malfoy?" I said.  
"I said I would figure you out. So, here I am," he said.  
I rolled my eyes and continued to reshelve the books I held.  
"I'm trying to be civil," he said.  
"It's just odd," I said.  
He leaned against the shelf and looked at me curiously.  
"So are you. You seem to date a lot of boys," he said.  
"Really, Malfoy?" I sighed.  
He nodded.  
"It's a clue," he said, "and I'll get it eventually."  
Then he was gone.

* * *

"Have you noticed they're all blond?" Malfoy asked.  
"You again?" I sighed.  
He moved to stand in front of me, effectively blocking my way.  
"Every ex you have, which is nearly every boy who didn't mind a bit of cock, has blond hair. Light blond hair. Which seems like it would be hard to find so many, but you've certainly managed," he said.  
"Why do you know that? That's creepy, Malfoy," I said.  
I backed away from him.  
"Don't say you're shy? You couldn't possibly be after the third or fourth. And I've heard rumors of muggles. Blond muggles," he said.  
"I don't know what you're trying to prove, but you're moving into stalker territory very quickly. So I like blondes. I'm allowed my preferences," I said.  
He stepped towards me.  
"I'm going to figure you out, Harry Potter, if it's the last thing I do," Malfoy swore.  
He swept off. I thought Severus must have taught him how to billow. There's no other way. I shrugged my shoulders and carried on.

* * *

I did go out during Hogsmeade weekend. With Neville. Luna had met some guy named Rolf and I felt Hermione and Ron needed the time together, but I wanted candy and Neville wanted some plant or another. Anyone else would have assumed it was a date, for both of us. It was the best solution.  
"Why do you want this again?" I asked.  
"I'm giving it to Professor Sprout after I cut saplings, and she's going to teach me more advanced Herbology," he said.  
"Oh yeah, you actually know where your life is going," I grumbled.  
Neville patted my head. I scowled.  
"You and Luna, always with the touching," I said.  
He laughed.  
"You'll get there, Harry," he said.  
I turned the snow into a little city with my wand. Light pulsed out of one of the windows.  
"Or, as Ron says, 'you don't have to do a bloody thing, you're the richest wizard, practically ever'. He wasn't wrong about that," Neville said.  
"I know. I know, it's just," I said.  
"Yeah," he agreed.  
We strolled along the cold streets, ignoring the warm lights and cheerful establishments.  
"I'm hungry, but I don't want Puddifoot's," I eventually said.  
"Oh, don't worry about that. I know a place," Neville said.  
The place was small, and nice. It was reminiscent of Muggle Chinese restaurants, and the food did not disappoint.  
"Neville, when are you going to ask her on a date?" I asked.  
"Who?" he asked.  
I scoffed.  
"Don't be thick. Pansy Parkinson," I said.  
He looked at his mostly empty plate.  
"I dunno, Harry she's..." he said.  
I nodded my head.  
"But it doesn't hurt to try," I said.  
He shrugged.  
"Yeah," I said.

* * *

"Just eat it, would you? We made turkey and stuff," I said.  
"Isn't that an American thing? An American Muggle thing?" Ron asked.  
"Yes, but our teacher is from America. And she said we can learn more about decorating before Christmas and work on whatever after if we learn to cook big meals now," I said.  
"It's good, Harry," Hermione said.  
I smiled.  
"Thank you. I was worried I'd held the heating charm too long on the potatoes and I'm not used to cooking fresh vegetables," I said.  
"You do know it's almost dinner, don't you?" Hermione asked.  
"Yes, that's why I only did sides and gave small portions," I said.  
Ron choked.  
"You sound like her," he said.  
Hermione swatted him.  
"Well good, she's the only one of us with any sense," I said.  
"Don't suck up to her, Harry, it's too late," Neville said.  
"He's not wrong," Hermione pouted.

* * *

I walked into the little shop I called my own, a Muggle frozen yogurt place just outside of Hogsmeade. The shop was small and brightly colored.

I tucked a green spoon into my back pocket before looking at the selection of flavors. I collected the spoons. They were a nice fixation, a bright spot.

I preferred Muggle places since the war's end. The Muggles didn't give unearned congratulations to me. The Muggles didn't pretend to love me or give me favors. I was just another customer.

I watched as the cherry yogurt swirled into the cup and contemplated toppings before deciding it was a simple foods day.

I carefully sat on a stool and prepared to eat.

"You're here," Malfoy said.

I turned around quickly. The spoon clattered out of my pocket.

"This is my place," I said, "do you have to follow me EVERYWHERE?"

"You can't own a place," Malfoy said.

I stuck my blue spoon back into my ice cream. I only ate with the blue spoons, because they were the most common. Green was the color I needed to complete the winter spoons.

"Are you really leaving, Potter? We can both.." Malfoy said.

I looked at the ground and decided the spoon wasn't worth it. I walked out of the store without another word.

* * *

The whole point of a picnic on the Quidditch field was to avoid seeing Malfoy at lunch. I stretched somewhat casually and reached out to flick a bug away from my stack of candies. So much for that.  
"Here again, Malfoy? I'm beginning to think you're following me," I said.  
"They all look like me," he said.  
"Who?" I asked.  
"All of them. Not precise copies, but they all have a refined air to them, blond hair, light eyes, cheekbones," he said.  
"That's a modest observation," I laughed.  
He glared at me and stuck his nose into the air.  
"Nearly every single one," he said.  
"I thought it was all of Hogwarts' male population and several muggles? How could they all look like you? How exhaustingly vain," I said.  
His glare held and I resisted the urge to laugh.  
"And whatever would that have to do with you if they did, anyway?" I asked.  
Nothing. I did laugh, then.  
"You observe your own cheekbones?" I asked.  
"I have eyes," Malfoy said.  
I rolled mine at that.  
"Well, use them. I'm busy," I said.  
"Busy eating? You always avoid me," he accused.  
"And yet you still come back," I sighed.  
He threw a spoon into my lap. A green spoon.  
"How did you-?" I began.  
"I am trying to be nice to you!" he shouted.  
I looked at the spoon again.  
"Thank you," I said.

* * *

I walked into the Room of Requirement and stopped. Malfoy was already in there.  
"I thought it was impossible to get in here when someone else is," I said, mostly to myself.  
"Only if the people inside require privacy," he said.  
I could see the journal he held between his thigh and the chair.  
"What's that?" I accused.  
"Aren't you tired of fighting me, Potter?" he sighed.  
I stared at him.  
"It's a journal of sorts. Part diary, part fiction," he said.  
"You write?" I asked, " The Draco Malfoy writes?"  
He shrugged.  
"What of it, Potter?" Malfoy asked.  
I frowned.  
"I don't know," I said.  
Malfoy dipped his quill in the ink and continued to write.  
"You can stay, if you want," he said.  
"I..I want," I said.  
I watched him dragging the quill against the parchment, his elegant fingers wrapped delicately around the feather.  
"Do you ever write about me?" I asked after awhile.  
He looked up.  
"Why do you ask?" he asked warily.  
"I wondered if you might have written a paragraph about me. Or something. It's," I said.  
He smiled.  
"I think you rate more than a paragraph, Harry. You could fill novels," Malfoy said with a small smile.  
I started at the use of my name.  
"Oh. Well, I just came in here to avoid the crowds so I'm going to... Goodbye Malfoy," I said quickly.

* * *

Afterwards I avoided Malfoy like I avoided all unpleasant things. Or rather, how I avoided all things that had the slightest promise of being quite pleasurable but entirely uncontrollable. I did not like uncertainty.  
It wasn't entirely possible, however. It wasn't because Malfoy seemed determined to stalk me all over school until he figured me out, or whatever his goal is.  
"Harry," Malfoy said, his voice sounding behind me.  
I turned around. The leather of the couch released the skin of my back where my shirt had ridden up with an uncomfortable sound.  
"Malfoy what do you want?" I asked.  
"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked.  
I said nothing. Ron watched me but, surprisingly, didn't insult Malfoy once. Some help.  
"Answer me," he said.  
I did not.  
"You've dated every blond in this school. Every blond but me," he nearly shouted, cheeks red and lip pouting.  
"That's not true. I haven't dated a single girl and I've not been with Neville," I said, "Or Colin Creevey. Or you, and all the people I haven't ever talked to. And I've managed to restrict myself to those in a reasonable age window."  
Malfoy scoffed.  
"Neville Longbottom isn't even remotely curious and is completely straight. I hardly think he counts," he said.  
"I count him. He's one of my best friends, and if you can't see that then you know why I haven't asked you," I said hotly.  
"You just think you can have everything, Potter!" he screamed, storming out of the room.  
I looked to Ron and shrugged.  
"Maybe you ought to rethink the blond thing, mate," he said.  
I laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

**An- the formatting in the previous chapter wasn't quite what I wanted, and I accidentally cut a scene out so if you're here because you liked the first part please re read it. This is my first attempt at something this complex, so _constructive_ criticism definitely welcome.**

* * *

"What is it, about the blondes?" he asked.  
"It's just a preference," I sighed.  
He drug his fingers across my arm slowly.  
"You're pale," Malfoy whispered.  
"Thanks a million. What do you _want_ , Malfoy?" I asked.  
He brought my hand up to his lips and kissed my finger.  
"I want to cover you in promises, mark you as my own. I want to be the one you've been searching for," he said.  
I pressed my other hand against my hip to hide the shaking. He smiled at me. So open, so honest. I kissed him. It was the barest of touches but I could feel it over my whole body.  
"What do you mean?" I asked.  
He laid me back on a table that wasn't there before and tugged at my shoes. His fingertips grazed the bare skin of my toe that peeked through a hole in my sock and I shivered.  
"I told you once before you were worth novels. I'm going to show you," he whispered.  
He undressed me slowly. My breaths were him and my thoughts were him. It was all... all Malfoy. He kissed me and I arched into him. Then he was standing above me, paintbrush in hand.  
"What..?" I said quietly.  
He hushed me and kissed my shoulder. Then he dipped his brush into the inkwell and wrote. His words covered my skin and my voice faltered. He had more than one inkwell, blue ink and red, black ink and a deep purple. He used them all. When he was finished with my front side he kissed me again.  
"You are so important. Don't you believe me?" Malfoy asked.  
"I never said I didn't," I said.  
"You didn't have to say," he whispered against my chin.  
He lifted me up, cradled me in his arms and carried me to a mirror on the wall before setting me on my feet.  
I looked into it at the words enveloping me.  
BEAUTIFUL. IMPORTANT. MINE.  
I looked back at him.  
"Malfoy, what are you playing at?" I asked.  
"Draco," he said, all he said.  
"I came here to have sex," I said.  
"I told you. I want to cover you in promises. I want you to know what I think of you, what I've always thought of you. I don't want to be one of those blondes you change your mind about," he said.  
"Stop it," I said.  
"I want to matter to you. I want- you _matter_ , Harry," he said.  
"Fuck off, Malfoy," I said quietly.  
He moved closer.  
"Scared, then? Of staying, of leaving, of existing, of chance?" he asked.  
"Leave it!" I shouted, backing away.  
I met the wall.  
And then I met Malfoy. It was slow and it was fast as he swirled me around and laid me down. His lips met mine and traveled down over the places in-between the ink. I reached up to him. He circled my bellybutton with his fingers as he made it lower and lower.  
My shallow breaths gave up momentarily. He slid his finger down my hipbones and nearer my cock. I wanted it. Wanted him. I lifted my hips to meet him, to entice him. He took me in his fist and so slowly, so agonizingly slow, he moved.  
I panted into his neck as his pace sped up and then returned to so very slow.  
"Draco," I whispered, "please."  
He gave into me, granted me my release with a squeeze and rapid pumping. I arched against him and muffled a yell into his shoulder.  
When I regained my breath he stood and cast a quick charm to clean us off.  
"What about?" I started.  
"We've still got curfew," he said.  
I nodded slowly.  
"You're right," I said, "of course."

* * *

"Malfoy's acting right weird, you know?" Ron said.  
I mumbled, "Ron, sleeping."  
"He's prancing about the common room with flowers," he insisted.  
"Slumbleflug," I groaned.  
"Yes, but _flowers_ , Harry! _Malfoy_ ," he said.  
I gave up on sleep.  
I went out to the common room.  
"How did you get in?" I ask, brushing the sleep from my eyes.  
Draco held out the flowers to me. I ignored them.  
"The- Granger let me in," he said.  
Ron sputtered and started stalking around the landing of the stairs to the girl's dorm.  
"Why are you here?" I whispered.  
He smiled, wide.  
"Because it's morning and I've missed you," Draco said.  
"Exactly, it's morning. Why are you awake, why are you here, where on earth did you find flowers?" I asked.  
Draco held the flowers out again. I took them.  
"I'll see you later," I said.  
His smile fell.  
"Draco. Thank you for the flowers," I said with a smile.  
He smiled back and left, to the relief of a few first years.

* * *

I traced my wand carefully over the criss crossing lines of red. They disappear. There's something nice about the abilities of magic. Something dangerous in it. I learned the spell in my Life Skills class. No one thought anything of it.  
"Harry's such a mom. Of course he wants to kiss the boo boos better," they'd say.  
I do. Of course I do. But I learned the spell to cover the wounds in my heart. To help me shoulder the burden of being the Saviour without tossing it onto the shoulders of anyone else. It makes it easier.  
It's not that the blood releases my pain or anything like that. It's an obsession. Small cuts, tiny. Barely a centimeter, some of them. If I left them, I'm not sure anyone would even notice. But I don't just leave them, I don't just let myself fester and decay because so many people are here because I was strong. Because they think I was strong.  
I was strong. Strong enough to destroy Voldemort, strong enough to never let anyone see what has become of the golden child. But I am weak. I am too weak to let them know, I am a fractured thing.  
I try, I do. I try to let people love me. I try to overlook a bit of pudge, an unflattering haircut, a lisp. I try to drown in their affections and forget they only want me because of who I am. What I can give them. But I am shallower than I pretend to be and still I am drowning.  
I haven't figured out if I always choose terrible people, if all people are terrible, or if I just have horrid trust issues.  
Perhaps all of those are true.

* * *

"I hope you have a long and happy life, Harry," Draco said.  
"You don't get to wish that on me! You don't get to say _anything_ ," I said.  
He frowned.  
"Why is it so bad that I'm trying to be understanding?" he asked.  
"I'm breaking up with you," I repeated.  
"I understand. I respect your decision and I hope-" he started.  
"Don't say it again!" I shouted.  
I started crying.  
"You don't want me to go anywhere," he said quietly.  
"You already knew that. Didn't you?" I asked.  
He nodded.  
"Let people close to you. Let me close to you," he said.  
I walked into his arms, my tears wetting his shirt.

"Why me, Draco? Why? I'm no good for writing on, no good for flowers or whatever else you have cooked up. I'm.. I'm good for vanquishing Dark Lords and big manors near the beach with gardens. Plural," I shouted.  
I raised my hands up to my hair as tears began to leak from my eyes.  
"I'm not the one people date because I'm just. So. Awesome! I'm a good ticket to the front page and the latest game and oh, I don't know. Powerful children or something. I don't really ask for motives, they're basically all the same," I said.

I began to pace.  
"That's not true," he said quietly.  
"It _is_ true. I'm rich. I'm powerful. I have great political influences. That's all they care about. I'm not attractive, or interesting. They don't want to taste the new sauce I learned about. I'm nothing to them but opportunities," I said.  
Draco grabbed me and held me to his chest. My forehead touched just below his neck and it felt.. nice.  
"Not me. I'm rich and even after everything I still have some influence and power. But that doesn't matter to me, anyway. You are so so wonderful, Harry Potter. And I'm going to believe that hard enough for the both of us," he said.  
And then he kissed me.  
"You are both the sculptor and the clay. And I know one day your masterpiece will outshine the stars," he whispered.

* * *

Draco ripped my wand from my hands.  
"I came to surprise you," he said.  
I just watched him. I didn't have time to cover. I didn't have time to erase.  
He was quiet for a long time.  
"Why do you do it?" he asked.  
I didn't bother asking what he was talking about.  
"I don't know," I said.  
He looked broken. He looked like me.  
"It just.. it gives me something to focus on. If my arm is bleeding, I know why I'm feeling pain. I know how to make it stop," I said.  
He took my wrist in his hand.  
"How many would be there if we were Muggles, Harry? How many times have you done this to yourself?" he demanded.  
I looked into his eyes. He was crying. I kissed away his tears.  
"As the stars in the sky," I whisper.  
He pulled me into him. My blood smeared into his fingers.  
"No more, Harry. Please. _Please_ ," he chanted.  
I let him. I cried with him until we both faded into the night.


End file.
